The Emotion of Affection is an Odd One
by DarkMajix
Summary: Irene just moved from Italy, all the way to Japan.  Starting at a new school can be a challenge, even more so when you have a popular Regular claiming to be your friend.  Now Irene has to battle not only school, but fangirls and her own emotions!


**Ok, so this fanfic is really from last year in Creative Writing, so I know it probably won't be the best out there...but hey, I tried. It should get better though, after I start actually getting into the story again.**

_Whack! Thunk! Thunk! Whack! Thunk! Thunk! Whack!_

The hitting of a tennis ball against brick was an annoying sound. Really hard to ignore. Especially if you're trying to sleep!

Brown eyes opened, glaring up at the sky. I sat up. The bushes I had been sleeping behind rustled. Combing my fingers through my slightly tangled shoulder length onyx black hair, I looked around.

'Who the heck is out here?' Thinking to myself, I grabbed my tan backpack and slowly crawled under and out of the bushes. And came face to…well, face to the back of someone's legs and shoes.

…Yay…

Note the sarcasm.

Anyway, so I ended up tapping the guys' foot. While saying, "Hey buddy. Could ya move?" Ah yes, my wonderful people skills.

"What?" The guy turned around to look down at me.

Must've been a sight. A teenage girl, on her knees behind him, tapping his foot. While looking up at him, glaring.

"Yeah. Can you move? You're blocking my exit." I said in my oh-so-nice-and-sugar-coated tone.

Another note of sarcasm.

Seeing a trend here?

He, after staring at me for ten seconds. Yes, I counted, I was that annoyed, and so if he had waited a second longer, he would have seriously regretted it. But he finally moved.

"Finally, I thought you would never move." I stood up, brushing off my backside. You never know what could have been on the ground.

Looking up at the guy, my short 5'1'' stature against his possible 5'6'' or 5'7'', it wasn't fair.

He wasn't too bad to look at though. Bright cherry red hair, and indigo blue eyes, like the night sky. He contrasted against me like day against night. My olive skin, his creamy white, my chocolate brown eyes, and onyx black hair.

"Hello?"

I guess he had been talking to me; I really need to start paying more attention, sometime.

"What?" I answered him, shoving my hands inside my ripped dark wash jean pockets. Cocking my head to the side, staring up at him.

"I asked, what were you doing under there?"

"Sleeping."

He looked stunned at my response. It was sort of cute actually, wait, what? I did so not just think he was cute. Well, he sort of is, with his clueless expression…OK…my thoughts are stopping here.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Wait a minute, what?

"Its fifth period already!"

"No…Wait! You're a third year?"

Uh…duh…what did he think I was?

"No Shit, Sherlock, when did'ya come to that conclusion?"

"Ummm…" He scratched the back of his head. "Well, I thought you were a first year, because, well, you're sort of…short."

My face must've been priceless. One of those what-the-hell-did-you-just-say-I-so-hope-for-your-sake-you-didn't-just-say-that looks.

He must've sensed the danger, 'cause he backed up a good foot or two.

"Never mind." I told my self to calm down, he didn't know that I was sensitive about my height. "Anyway, are you a third year too?"

"Yep!" He had a stupid huge grin on his face. "The name's Eiji Kikumaru!"

"Mine's Irene DeLuca."

"Are you a foreigner?"

I sighed. "No. My family's just from Italy. I actually moved here a few months ago from America."

"Wow. Really!" He looked so surprised and excited, that I couldn't help it.

I giggled.

"Oh. My. God." My voice cracked as I tried holding in my giggles. "Your face! It's hilarious!"

Pouting, he replied. "That was just mean." And looked away.

Gawd. I wish guys back in Europe were this cute...

Never mind.

"What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Oh. I'm practicing." He held up a tennis racket.

Oh. So he was on the tennis team…

That must be why he had the Regulars jacket.

So he was a Regular…

"Well, see you around." I waved him goodbye, and turned to leave.

"WAIT!"

What now…

I turned around, to see Eiji running towards me.

Who knew he was that fast…

…Crap. I couldn't outrun him…

Not even out of breath, he jogged around me to stop in front of me, preventing my forward trajectory.

"If you're a student here, why aren't you wearing the uniform?"

I looked down, dark wash jeans with rips in the knees and stains galore, forest green long sleeve t shirt, black converse.

"Simple, I hate the uniform." Came my blunt response.

He of course, stood there like I had just insulted his mother.

"Won't you be in trouble with the school?"

Shrugging I replied. "I already got special permission from the school, sure it took some persuading, but it worked."  
I turned to walk away yet again, taking my neon purple i-pod from my pocket, sticking the ear buds into my ears and turning it on. Although before I could actually select a song from the menu, Eiji thought it would be fun to yell into my ear.

"Hey! I've got a great idea! You should come to our game tomorrow at one!"

I turned and stared blankly at him,

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because," He smiled brightly, "We're friends now!"

That threw me off, I stumbled but caught myself.

"WHAT?"

"Yep! So anyway, here's the address and time! See you there!" He handed me a piece of paper and ran off in the direction of the school. Leaving me there with my i-pod in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

"What the hell just happened?"

Looking at the note, I found that the tennis match was being held about an hour away from my house, more towards the city. Great, that means the bus, unless I was able to coax my father to drive me.

Sighing yet again I shoved the little note inside my pocket and turned my i-pod to shuffle walking towards the school. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

**I actually hate ending it here, but my brain couldn't progress in the storyline...**  
***Starts hitting head***  
**Dumb brain! Why. Won't. You. WORK!**


End file.
